Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2)

by Chloe Flowers

  Keelan shook her head as she glanced over her shoulder and fought to keep her voice from trembling. “I doubt any assistance you offer will benefit me in any way.”

  He had donned his breeches and was rummaging through the lower drawer of the tallboy. “I might surprise you.” He removed a long knife, a folded piece of soft doeskin and a long leather lace. “Although I would prefer otherwise, under these circumstances, I am forced to aid you in your quest to hide that soft feminine form of yours, which I have come to crave so deeply.”

  He placed the soft leather on the floor and then proceeded to carve several holes along the short sides of the rectangular hide. The muscles in his shoulders and back rippled with his movements and she hated herself for admiring them.

  “My original intent was to have this made into a pair of gloves. However, I believe it now must serve a greater calling," he said, sensual lips curving into the slightest smile.

  He moved to stand before her, holding the short sides of the doeskin in his fingers.

  She eyed him warily. “A corset? I fail to understand how wearing that will benefit my disguise," she questioned, lifting a skeptical brow.

  “It is not intended for that purpose, love,” he replied, an amused glint in his eyes. “Remove your shirt.”

  “I will not!” she gasped, horrified. She’d been proud of herself for fighting off Landon Hart and his mesmerizing lure. Granted, it took her a few moments, but now that she’d managed to push him far enough away, she didn’t dare jeopardize her position. She was weak, too weak to test her resolve so soon.

  “This will cover you better over the bandage," he explained patiently but firmly. “Now, trust me and do as I say.”

  “I don’t need your help. I can do it myself.” The pitch of panic in her own voice made her clamp a hand over her own mouth.

  “Keelan,” a quiet note of exasperation permeated his tone. “I intend for this to be laced over your breasts to disguise them better.” He held up the leather and cord. “One of us must hold it together while the other threads the tie. Now, please, remove the shirt.”

  Realizing there was little she could do to dissuade him from his mission, she presented her back and shrugged out of the shirt which had once been his.

  Despite the dark stain applied, Keelan was positive her skin still reddened at what she was about to do.

  Landon’s gut churned and his flayed pride smarted at Keelan’s words.

  A rutting dog?

  He’d bared his soul! He’d told her about the sacrifice he’d made by sending his ship ahead to Harbour Town instead of Philadelphia. Up north, he would have delivered the rice and indigo for a delicious profit. Harbour Town had no need for such cargo. They had their own rice plantations and indigo mills.

  He’d even told her he desired only her, not Annette.

  She didn’t believe him.

  How could she not believe him? He’d never lied to her before, had he?

  Snatching his shirt from his chair, he clenched his teeth together to prevent any ill-timed words from falling out of the mouth that still ached to kiss her again.

  Her kiss had been tender and full of longing. He could sense it. The heat from her body ignited a fire within his. They’d experienced a rush of passion together. Somewhere deep in the delicate recesses of his soul, a sensation stirred in a withered hollow he believed had been destroyed long ago. Loving a woman had only brought on pain and humiliation. It had made him weak. He’d squelched it. Never again.

  But…he not only wanted her, desired her…he needed her. He needed her by his side. A tiny thought wheedled its way into his mind like the itch of a bug bite.

  She didn’t trust him. At all.

  Trust between them was crucial now, if they were going to be together. He had to be able to trust her to keep his secrets. If they were ever exposed, his life, along with many others would be placed in jeopardy. How was he supposed to trust her in confidence when she obviously didn’t have faith in him?

  Keelan took off the shirt, her movements jerky, like a wary doe. She’d put a barrier between them, more fragile than thin china. She feared he would shatter it.

  He could. Easily.

  But…what would that accomplish? What could he do to gain Keelan Grey’s elusive trust? This was a new problem he’d never had to deal with before. His crew trusted him with their lives and their welfare. Not once had he ever been required to prove his worth or honor. To anyone. If anything, she should have to convince him she could be trusted.

  The shirt dropped to the floor and his chest tightened as he stared at the angry slashes along her delicate back and shoulders. He’d spent days seeking an informant who’d reveal Keelan’s kidnapper. He’d found nothing. Even the few men captured at the warehouse didn’t know the true identity of Gampo’s employer. The man was nothing more than a shadow. Landon would have liked justice to be done upon the bastard, but he couldn’t find him, dammit. And Gampo has escaped. Again.

  Keelan adjusted the bandages then crossed her arms over her breasts and peered timidly over her shoulder.

  He placed the soft doeskin against her back, and then reached the ends around her chest, pausing as his knuckles gently grazed her erect nipples. She tensed and sucked in her breath,

  Ah, then. She might not trust him, but she desired his touch none the less. He could work with that.

  “Would you care to hold the ends, my love?”

  Keelan roughly snatched the ends of the leather corset from his hands, and pulled them tightly against the center of her chest, determined to repel his charm. He peered around her shoulder. Smiling almost lewdly, he dangled the long lace before her eyes. “Would you have me apply the ties, or perhaps hold the leather, so you can string the ties?”

  The cause for his amusement was quite clear. If he held the ends, she would have to trust him to keep them snug over her chest. She’d just as soon let a fox in to the chickens’ roost. If she permitted him to string the lace, she’d have to endure the touch of his fingertips as he threaded it through the holes. As humiliating as the second choice was, it was definitely the lesser of the two evils. Hopefully.

  “Proceed with the lace, Captain.” She narrowed her eyes and added sternly, “But try to be a gentleman about it.”

  He gave her a gallant bow. “I am here to serve, my dearest.”

  “I ponder your comprehension of the term," she replied dryly.

  Landon indeed took his leisure in threading the lace through the holes in the hide; one by one, despite the glowering looks she threw his way. He threaded each eyelet with extreme care and slow deliberate movements.

  When the task was complete, she snatched the laces from his fingers and angrily tightened them.

  “Scoundrel.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin as he allowed his gaze to roam at will. “I take pride in the fact I complete all my tasks with perfection.”

  “Bah!” She bent down to retrieve her shirt from the floor, missing the admiring attention he gave to her slender hips and backside.

  “What am I to do with you, sweet?” Landon inquired softly.

  She gave a sarcastic laugh as she buttoned the shirt. “Leave me alone. You have enough…distractions as it is.”

  “Ahhh but my love, that…is impossible. It’s imperative for you continue in your guise as ‘young Mahdi’ to keep you safe,” he mused. He took in every detail of her appearance, from the snug fit of her breeches to the green fire of her eyes. “But I cannot allow you to hang your hammock in the hold with the crew at night. Too risky. You’ll have to sleep here.”

  She stared at him, aghast. Was he mad? “I will not!”

  “You must," he stated firmly. “Keelan, you can’t keep a hammock in the hold with the crew. You’re bound to be discovered. It will only be a matter of time before one of the men joins you in the head, or surprises you at a most inopportune moment. At least here, you’ll have privacy.”

  She bit her lip. In truth, her thoughts had traveled the same p
ath earlier. Sharing sleeping quarters with Landon Hart, however, would be disastrous. “I will not play the whore to your lusts,” she said angrily. “Instead, I shall leave that duty to Annette Camsby.”

  Landon stared at her a moment, the tiniest hint of a smile playing about his mouth. Then he shook his head. “I will harbor no arguments, Keelan.” Landon said sternly. “With Garrison aboard, your safety depends on your identity remaining secret for a while longer.”

  He knew. She fixed an accusing glare on him. “You knew he was aboard this ship?”

  Landon shrugged casually. “Had I known you were here, I would never have allowed him aboard. This was an opportunity for me to watch him. I have my suspicions about Garrison, and I had intended to test them.”

  Doubt tugged at her mind. She wanted to believe him and trust him, but she was torn. He wanted her in his bed. He used concern as a ploy to weaken her guard. There had been no mention of marriage vows to accompany all which he desired of her. Bastard or no, she would not play the part of a doxy for him. Or anyone, but especially not him.

  Who did she think she was fooling? One touch from Landon Hart would melt whatever wall she managed to construct between them.

  Keelan clenched her jaw in firmer resolve. She would not allow his handsome features and beguiling charm to sap her resistance.

  She would not.

  Landon reached for his shirt and shrugged it on. “You’d best get back to the galley. Marcel will wonder what has become of you.” He grinned. “No doubt, he’ll think I saw fit to see to your bath, as well as my own.” Landon’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “He’ll never realize how truthful that assumption would be.”

  That man! Keelan snatched up the buckets and stomped out. Landon Hart was not going to make this easy.

  Well, he was about to find out she was stronger than she looked.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I know where she is. Meet me in the aft hold. Now.

  Everett studied the scribbled note. Something seemed off. Maybe it was the tattered piece of handbill the message was written upon. Maybe it was because not many people knew he was aboard.

  He raised his voice as loudly as he dared, “Who gave this to you?”

  The man shrugged. “Someone came up behind me and whispered into my ear. Told me not to turn around. Put the paper and a shilling in my hand and then told me to give it to the tallest man on deck. That be you.” He moved on before Everett could ask another question.

  Sweat beaded along his upper lip. Had one of his contacts found her? Problem was, his fortunes had recently changed, and he was unable to pay the reward he’d promised. Perhaps the man would be desperate enough to negotiate. He pushed off from the rail near the aft deck and sauntered toward the hatch. He swept his gaze around the deck. Annette Camsby stood near the helm beside Captain O'Brien. The plainly dressed woman who’d accompanied her stood near. She glanced his way and gave him a slight smile, which he returned with a quick nod, to indicate all was well.

  Keelan approached the helm like a child tasked with cutting her own switch for punishment. Annette was there chirping at Conal O'Brien like a spring bird. Time to tell Conal to return to his cabin so Landon could apprise him of “the situation.”

  The situation being…her.

  As she took the first step, a movement caught her attention, and she glanced over in time to catch sight of Dr. Garrison ducking below deck. It wouldn’t have merited her consideration if the petite woman who’d accompanied Annette aboard hadn’t dashed over to follow him.

  There was something familiar about her.

  Keelan stopped and peered more closely. The young lady paused to cast a furtive look about before she descended. For a brief second, her face was visible from beneath her bonnet.

  Doreen!

  Keelan left a letter for Uncle Jared, telling him he could find his daughter with Mrs. Camsby. When she recalled the doctor’s ramblings the night she’d been kidnapped, her heart stopped. Dear Lord, was Doreen accompanying Annette or the doctor? She sucked in a breath. Both?

  She started to follow her cousin, then remembered her prior task. She darted up the steps to the helm, found Captain O'Brien, and quickly delivered Landon’s message. At the captain’s nod, she spun and headed below deck. However, Annette’s irritated expression lifted her mood somewhat.

  The hold was dark and reeked of old, wet rags. It was separated into three sections. The cargo was dispersed based on weight and destination. Sounds of a muffled conversation barely rose above the wooden beams encompassing the hold like a giant ribcage. It took a moment to adjust her eyes to the dimmness; the light was thin, coming from a single lantern somewhere near the center of the space.

  Keelan snaked her way between barrels, bales, and crates, following the low hum of murmured conversation. A high shriek, suddenly cut short, froze her in place. It was followed by a soft thud. Heart pounding and fearing for Doreen’s welfare, Keelan crept forward then paused at a familiar voice.

  “So ye thinks ye can steal away without paying yer share to Gampo, eh?”

  Orvis!

  “I did no such th-th-thing,” Garrison responded. “There were no shares. The plan failed. What do you want? Why are you aboard this vessel?” His voice rose to a treble pitch.

  “Seein’ as how Gampo couldn’t find the bitch what killed ‘is kin, I was instructed to take his vengeance from yer hide, instead, since ye be the one who paid us to bring ‘er in.” A pause. “Unless ye can tell me where to find the wench. Me bones tell me she’s aboard here somewheres.”

  Keelan’s fists clenched along with her jaw. Everett Garrison had been responsible for the kidnapping; her intuition had been right. It made her wonder more about his claim that Doreen had misunderstood his instructions, and had given Papa too much medicine, killing him. Her mouth became dry, somehow, she didn’t think it was Doreen’s fault.

  She peeked around a large crate and bit back a gasp. Doreen was slumped on the floor. Orvis had a knife at the doctor’s throat and had him backed up against a wall of crates next to Doreen’s still form. A trickle of blood darkened the floor beneath her cousin’s nose.

  Keelan glanced around, worried Daniel had met a similar fate. She hoped with all her heart he was up on deck somewhere. She needed to get help. If she left, she might return too late. Orvis looked eager to draw blood. She slipped the dagger from her boot and circled around to the other side of the large crate, hoping to stay out of sight a bit longer and get closer to insure a more accurate throw.

  Dr. Garrison raised his hands, palms out. “I don’t know where she went. After she ran from the warehouse, I couldn’t find her either. I’m sorry.”

  Orvis drew his eyebrows low. “Gampo don’t take lightly to them what’s backed out on an accord. Them warehouse goods weren’t no easy takin’s like ye said they would be, and in the end, we didn’t get no shares from our labors, neither.”

  The doctor’s hands shook and his chin trembled. “T…tell Gampo I’ll make it up to him. I—”

  Hatch gave an incredulous snort of laughter. “Like I said, he wants it to come outta yer hide,” he sneered, gripping Garrison’s hair with his free hand. His blade flashed and the doctor shrieked.

  Keelan froze in terror. Orvis now held a bloody piece of the doctor’s scalp, hair still attached, in his hand. With a dark snarl, he raised his knife again. She jolted into action and moved from her hiding place to get an open shot at the pirate. The ship pitched slightly and shifted her balance enough to cause her shoulder to bump the crate. Orvis jerked his head up at the noise.

  He’d seen her. With no other choice, she drew back her dagger, and took the only option she had, which was to go on the attack, or at least attempt to appear threatening. “Move away from them.” Her voice sounded unnatural in her ears.

  Instead of doing as she demanded, the pirate gave her a distorted grin that was more like a grimace, considering his face was still swollen and discolored from their earlier engagements. Everett stumbled to the
side as Orvis drove the blade into his torso.

  “No!” she screamed.

  Orvis whirled, pulling a second blade from his belt and strode toward her. “I’ll have yer eyes fer fish bait, boy.”

  In a panic, she threw her dagger, but it went wide, slicing off a piece of Orvis’s left ear. He flinched but barely broke his stride. Behind him, Dr. Garrison struggled to pull out the blade buried between his ribs. Finally succeeding, he pushed himself away from the wall and staggered toward the pirate. Orvis grinned at her and raised his blade as he moved closer. Behind him, Everett lurched forward and with a desperate heave of effort, buried the dagger in Orvis’s back.

  The pirate fell face down and didn’t move.

  His strength expelled, Garrison began to collapse.

  “Dr. Garrison!” She ran to help him but sank with him to the floor under his weight.

  Doreen stirred and pushed herself to a sitting position. Her eyes were wide, and she numbly swept her gaze from side to side until she found Garrison crumpled in a heap on the floor.

  “Everett, my darling, what happened?” Doreen whimpered as she crawled toward them, oblivious to the blood dripping from her temple and nose.

  The doctor had his hand pressed against his ribs; blood was still streaming between his fingers. Keelan ripped off her vest, wadded it into a ball, and gave it to him to press against his side.

  He didn’t look up from his task. “The knife grazed my ribs, that’s all. I need my medicine bag and some bandages,” His words were choppy and pained. He glanced at Keelan. “It would help, boy, if you would press this wound firmly. I’m finding it hard to apply enough pressure on my own.”

  “Yessir,” Keelan replied and quickly replaced his hand with hers. For all he’d done to the people she’d held dear all her life, she couldn’t ignore his injury. The doctor had just saved her from being attacked, and probably killed.